Crystal dance of sunlight, cerulean trance, depths beyond
our vision, boat cruise in morning mist. We envision the
eruption of ancient Mount Mazama, collapsed into
caldera. We walk the rim among windswept whitebark
pines, pumice landscape splashed with wildcolor—
paintbrush, penstemon, lupine. In lawn chairs on the
ledge, we watch everything fall into night, black sky &
Milky Way, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, we float in vastness.
Crater Lake National Park, Oregon
Francis Opila is a rain-struck, sun-loving poet who lives in the Pacific Northwest. His work, recreation, and spirit have taken him into the woods, wetlands, rivers, mountains, and deserts. His poems have appeared in Clackamas Literary Review, Soul-Lit, Willawaw Journal, Wayfinding, Windfall, in addition to other journals. He enjoys performing poetry, combining recitation and playing North American wooden flutes.
